These Violent Delights
by ItsLukasBondevik
Summary: Have violent ends.   If Drosselmeyer had his way from the start, there would be nothing happy in their world.
1. The End

AN: Just a brief reminder that the rating for this is T. That is for blood, language, and tragedy.

There was a thunderous pounding as the final five heartshards vanished into the heart of the crow prince. Princess Tutu stayed near Rue, her heart racing as she waited, quietly. Feathers of the purest white burst through the air, and the sky began to get dark. Fakir was inches away from Tutu, his sword drawn, his eyes alert. A face grew in the distance, and Rue cried out, "No!" The Raven enveloped the sky, darkening everything in Goldcrown Town with a menacing shadow. Mytho, though covered in feathers, never left Rue's side, and Princess Tutu walked forward with the knight, both prepared to fight when the time was right.

"Be careful, Fakir," Tutu said to him, her hand clasped around his for a moment. He nodded, knowing what she meant, knowing what all of this meant. He would not succumb to his fate, simply because a story was written a certain way. He would not die without touching the Raven. If he could save Mytho, if he could keep Rue and Tutu safe, his death would be worth the price paid. But there would be no dying in vain, he decided in anger. He would not die for nothing!

"Prince Mytho's heart," the Raven said, his voice grumbling low and frightening. Tutu felt a stab of fear hit her chest, shaking her to her very core, and she clenched her fists. "Bring me your heart, prince." Mytho moved from beside Rue, and began to fly towards the Raven, his wings weak and his flight wavering. Tutu tried to call out, but Fakir had already began to, his feet carrying him forward almost uncontrollably.

"No, Mytho!" Fakir shouted to the man. He rushed away from his friends blindly, his anger at the demon and his compassion for Mytho hurtling him forward. "Don't give in to the Raven!" Almost as if it gave him the greatest pleasure, the Raven lashed out against the knight, his claws digging deep in Fakir's flesh. Pain enveloped the honorable knight, and he let out a scream that shook Princess Tutu down to her bones. Rue watched in horror at the calamity she had caused, falling to her knees, watching as her false father tore the knight in two, with no remorse, with no pity, just with the cold eyes that she had known all her life.

"Fakir!" Tutu's voice was pained, a scream that could tear vocal chords to shreds, filled with nothing but sorrow and anguish as the Raven King dropped the remains of the cursed knight to the stone cobbles of the square.

She could only see the blood that now pooled around the once valiant young man, his green eyes dulled to a deathlike glass, vacant of the glow and spark of a brave and courageous life that Fakir had led, no longer mirroring the bravery he had shined with as he tried to rescue Mytho. Tutu felt like her heart had been torn in two right with Fakir, a pain that she had never felt before in her entire life. Her closest friend, her one companion that knew everything about her, that knew her through and through. Such a pain that she could not live through twice. The tips of her ballet slippers were stained red with his life's blood as she leaned over to close his eyes, not wanting their lifeless stare to be seen anymore.

Nothing more could be done, and she only wanted to remember Fakir from his life, not his death.

Rue was still on the ground where she had been since the beginning. The girl felt so helpless, so useless. She had stood by and watched while Fakir had been torn apart by the very man she had called her father. But what could she have done to prevent it? What could she have done to save his life? What could she do now? She clasped a hand over her mouth, holding back her tears. Nothing, she knew what the answer to all of her questions. She was nothing and could do nothing. What a meager, pointless existance, the same type that she had always cruelly pointed out to Princess Tutu. And yet Rue's life was more pathetic than the Princess who was fated to vanish forever, nothing but being used by a surrogate father and tossed aside after her usefulness wore out. How can this be? She held her face in her hands, tears dripping through her fingers. How can this be?

Standing back upright, her legs shaking, Princess Tutu turned to face the Raven. Her breath was catching in her throat, and she felt a wave of terror, but she could not stop. She must save Prince Mytho. Fakir had died vainly to protect the crow prince but she must not ever give up. One hand was placed over her heart and she looked up to where Mytho flew, heading straight for the Raven, fully prepared to give up the heart that he had just gotten back.

"Prince Mytho!" the ballerina princess cried, reaching her hand for him. She would not give up, she would never give up. She would not let her friend die for nothing. "Mytho!" The crow form of her beloved did not stop, he did not falter, but continued towards the king of the dark, the master of the ravens. Princess Tutu felt her heart thud maddeningly in her chest, tears filling her bright blue eyes as she watched the Prince head for his doom. "Stop! You can't!" She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing what she had to do. This was the last weapon in her arsenal, the only thing she knew that could truly work. "I love you Mytho!" she shouted, the words pouring out of her mouth so fluidly. Finally, she could say it to him. Finally, he would know. A bittersweet victory. "Ever since I saw you dance in the pond, when I was just a little duck. I was that duck Mytho! I was just a duck, but I can't help how I feel." She shook her head, her tears dripping to the stones beneath her feet. "I love you and you cannot lose yourself to the Raven!"

A spark lit up deep inside of the the prince, enveloping in him in a soft red light and he stopped flying, his body falling down, gently, from the air. Princess Tutu leapt forward with her arm outstretched, reaching for her prince. As the feathers disappeared from his body, he took Tutu's hand, clasping her fingers tightly. Her body grew golden, her tears shimmering like the most beautiful of diamonds. "Princess Tutu," he breathed, as she bowed her head to him, her heart aching. Mytho took her face in his free hand, and leaned in to press his lips to hers, wiping her tears away. "I love you, Tutu," he whispered, as she began to fade away into a magnificent glimmer of the purest light.

"Goodbye, my Prince," she said softly, as she disappeared and his arms no longer held anything at all. Her necklace fell into his outstretched hand, and he clenched it tightly to his chest, his eyes closed tightly. This was not the ending that should have happened. A warm spot grew on his breast, and he saw the gem vanish into sparkles of red light, trickling back to his heart. A shard of his that had long been right before his eyes, and yet unknown to Princess Tutu or anyone else. That very moment, Prince Mytho felt whole for the first time in so many years.

Reaching out for his sword, Mytho saw that he was now clad in a regal purple shirt and felt his crown once more adorn his head. "Siegfried," he said quietly, drawing his sword from the sheath. "I am Prince Siegfried!" he shouted, the sound of his name almost music to his ears. He leapt from the roof onto a column of rose petals, prepared to fight the Raven to the death. He must avenge the death of his best friend, his knight Fakir, the vanishing of the girl he loved, the wrecking of his entire life. "Prepare to fight, Raven!"

The Raven did nothing but laugh, so horrible, so terrifying, but it did not scare Prince Siegfried. He had waited his entire life for this moment, the moment where he could finally kill the Raven. "You would not hurt your friends, those who were once human and are now my servant crows." Siegfried found himself surrounded by the dark forms of those he knew, covered in feathers, evil piercing through their hearts. "Take the Prince's heart!"

Rue stepped forth, her arms reaching out in a demi seconde as feathers covered her. She could no longer sit on the side as the man she loved fought for his life, she must do something. Princess Kraehe appeared, her face determined as she leapt forth. "Leave Prince Mytho alone!" she ordered, as the raven servants turned from Siegfried to her, their faces full of confusion. "Do not take his heart." The servants did not know who to listen to, the Princess of the Crows or the Raven King. Siegfried used the confusion to his advantage, and was soon once more suspended in the air from his platform of petals.

"Die, you damned Raven!" he cried out, hurtling himself forward and lodging his sword deep into the heart of the foul beast that had plagued him for so many years. The Raven was unable to make a sound as he broke into a thousand black peices, filtering into nothingness, finally defeated by the prince. Siegfried touched back down to the ground, his breathing labored, but he was alive. He was alive and the Raven was defeated. But at what cost? The cost of Fakir and Princess Tutu, the two closest people to him. His chest ached, and he clutched his shirt, wondering if it was really worth it to have a heart.

"Mytho," Kraehe said softly, reaching out for him. He turned to look at her, hiding his face, hiding his pain away. She did not need to know of his heartache. She would not understand. "I love you," she whispered longingly, touching his arm. "I've loved you since I was small." Siegfried watched her shake, her feathers bringing him nothing but hatred. "Please, take me as your princess. Take me away from the horrors of my past and give me a brighter future."

Prince Siegfried glared at her coldly, causing a shiver to run down Kraehe's spine, and put his sword away. The sky grew back to a brilliant blue, and in the distance, the first signs of color showed as the sun began to set. The townsfolk that were once ravens were quiet and asleep on the ground, and he knew he must leave before they awoke. They would not remember anything at all, nothing about Fakir the knight, Duck who was Princess Tutu, and nothing about him. It was for the best, he knew.

Finally, he faced Kraehe fully, majestic, powerful, and royal. She felt a twinge of despair at the look on his face. There was no love there, no. There was nothing but hatred. "Oh, Kraehe, the evil, raven witch," he said scornfully, and she took a step back, her heart thumping hard in her chest. "You are not fit to be my princess, you have brought nothing but pain and terrible things into my life. The one princess I ever wanted vanished because of her love for me. Because of you. There is no room for you in my heart, Princess of the Crows."

Her eyes widened as he made his leave, turning his back on her forever. In a last attempt, full of rage and pain, Kraehe narrowed her eyes, the rejection cutting her deep from the one man she had ever loved. She pulled a feather from the air, gripping it tightly in her fist as it faded into a dagger. "You will not be my prince!" she cried, leaping forth to the hero. He did not have time to turn as she thrust the dagger into his back, straight into his heart. "So you will be no one's." Siegfried collapsed to his knees, his eyes blank and emotionless as he gently was lowered down to the ground by the Raven Princess, his clothes blossoming crimson.

His blood mingled with that of Fakir who lay so close by, and Kraehe closed her eyes, feeling the wind on her face. Her false father, though the only father she ever knew, was now dead. Her prince was as well, the knight, and Princess Tutu met her fate by fading into a speck of light and vanishing forever. Somehow it seemed so incomplete, so empty. Where was she to go now? Who would care for an ugly girl with hands so bloody, with a heart so dark and deep that she could not see the bottom?

Kraehe opened her eyes and looked down at the white haired man. For a moment she watched him as her anger dwindled into nothing but a dull ache deep in her breast. One, single thought crossed her mind, and it made her knees weak.

Mytho is dead.

Kraehe blinked and her hand started shaking as the blood from the dagger trickled onto her fair white flesh, causing her to cry out. Her black clothes faded away, once more revealing Rue, horrified Miss Rue. She had just killed her love, the man she cared for more than anything else in the world. She murdered him in cold blood, a dagger through the heart that she so adored. It was then that she knew what she had to do. It was all that could be done because nothing was left for her, she was alone. She took the knife firmly in her hand and called out, "What have I done?" before pushing it into her own chest.

The pain, she realized as she fell to the street beside her beloved Mytho, her hand falling in his as she closed her eyes one last time, is little more than a prick compared to how my heart feels.


	2. Epilogue

Uzura watched the page, her little eyes wide, and began to cry. Drosselmeyer watched her in surprise before demanding, "Well what is it? That was how the story was supposed to go."

"You're mean to Duck, zura!" she accused him, pounding on her drum in her dismay. "You made Duck go away, you made Fakir and Mytho and Rue die, zura!"

Drosselmeyer watched Uzura for a moment before letting out a long suffering sigh. "Uzura, this didn't really happen you know, remember? Princess Rue loved Prince Mytho and they went off into the story, Duck loved Fakir and he never left her side. Unfortunately, nobody actually died," he paused for a moment, thinking the story through, "though one good thing did happen."

Ceasing her pounding, Uzura looked up at Drosselmeyer with watery eyes. "What is that, zura?" she asked, awed.

A grin breaking out on his face, and an almost maniac note to his voice, he replied, "Duck is still just a bird, which means she won't be able to be with her beloved knight that should have died anyway. Despite her best efforts, Miss Duck still got the most bittersweet of endings! While Rue and Mytho are off being in love, all she is now once more is a bird who loves a human boy!" He began to laugh at the irony of it all, but Uzura glared at him and smacked him with her drumsticks.

"No, no, no, zura!" Uzura cried, tears dripping from her eyes once more. "You hurt Duck and Fakir and no lovey dovey now, zura!" She flopped down and pressed her face against her drum, making Drosselmeyer grimace.

He grumbled, "You are worse than Edel was, Uzura. What is going to happen now, with you so emotional?"

"I want Duck and Fakir with lovey dovey, zura!" she demanded, waving her drumstick threateningly. Drosselmeyer eyed her for a moment before turning back to his transcript, rereading over his perfect tragedy ending. If only it had truly happened, he thought sadly, filing it away with the rest of his rather more successful transcripts. Quite a tragedy, that it wasn't a tragedy. He chuckled to himself as he stood up to turn away from his desk, and nearly tripped over a still upset Uzura.

"I want to see Duck and Fakir, zura!" she said sadly.

Drosselmeyer raised an eyebrow. "Uzura, you are really no help to me at all." 


End file.
